


Discourse

by valantha



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, No Ben-bashing, Pre-Blackout, Pre-Series, Science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 07:58:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valantha/pseuds/valantha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that was the man she married, Rachel thought with wry pride, trying to explain computation to a government stooge by mentioning an astrobiological equation!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discourse

"The parameters for self-limiting expansion are off. I think it should be proportional to 1/R^6, you have it down as 1/R^12," Rachel expounded, hands on her hips, facing off with Ben over the extra-wide computer monitor.

Ben looked up from his work, "Rache, honey; you're being overly cautious. The parameters are based off of the test experiment results."

Rachel snorted, throwing her hands in the air, "Yeah, and we all know that drastically changing the size of objects does nothing what-so-ever to their physical properties."  _It's not like that is the underlying principle behind nanotechnology!_

"Hon…" Ben attempted soothingly.

"No. Don't you 'hon' me," Rachel retorted, "We aren't talking about an 800-cubic-foot room here Ben. We're talking about a 20,000 square mile province. How many orders of magnitude larger is that?"

Ben paused mere seconds before replying crisply, "Ten to fifteen, depending on how high the nanites can go."

Rachel rolled her eyes, "Ben, that was a rhetorical question. You know that for these computer models to mean  **anything,**  the starting parameters have to be right."

They just stood there glaring at each other, neither one willing to yield the argument. Rachel twisted her wedding ring meditatively, Ben rapped restlessly on his laminate desk top. Soon, however, Rachel heard the distinctive clomp of hard-soled leather loafers coming down the hall accompanying Ben's tapping. Mr. Flynn must be doing his normal 'productivity rounds.' Rachel stepped behind Ben, yielding the floor to him. He was the one who got this DOD contract started; he could deal with this smug snake who managed to get her hackles up nearly every conversation. Yes, she was the only person on the project without a doctorate – bureaucratic busybodies excepted – but did he have to rub her nose in it every single day?

Mr. Flynn stopped by Ben's open office door, predictably asking, "Dr. Matheson, Mrs. Matheson, how are things proceeding?"

"Good morning Mr. Flynn, things are proceeding well. We're just making sure the computational parameters are correct before we move on to the computationally intensive simulations," Ben replied smoothly.

Mr. Flynn practically oozed slime, "Just let me know if you need bigger computers. Argonne National Lab just upgraded their BlueGene, so let me know if you need one too."

Ben glanced back blue eyes twinkling at Rachel. They shared a silent private joke about government guys thinking that throwing more money at something was a cure-all.

Ben replied, "Mr. Flynn, that's great, but it still doesn't solve the main issue. We need to make sure we understand the process of EM absorption before trying to model large-scale systems. It's like the Drake Equation – garbage in, garbage out."

Rachel smiled.  _Now that was the man she married,_  Rachel thought with wry pride,  _trying to explain computation to a government stooge by mentioning an astrobiological equation!_

Mr. Flynn's face tightened slightly, "Oh, I know about garbage in, garbage out. Just get it done. I've given you plenty of time with your son."

Rachel felt herself go cold. Six weeks home – or rather, at the hospital – hardly counted as plenty of time, even if Danny had been healthy. Even if the whole period wasn't spent watching the fetal monitors and praying – and she hadn't prayed since she was 9.

Sure, he was in the finest hands government blood-money could buy, but that was no substitute to being able to feel his feeble flutterings within her or being able to watch his O2 stats constantly. Yeah, bringing up Danny wasn't the best way to motivate her. Piss her off, sure; motivate her, no.

Ben placed a soothing hand on her forearm, forestalling her enraged explosion, "Mr. Flynn, we are working very hard on this project, and we appreciate all you've done for us, but science isn't exactly a process where effort correlates linearly with results. "

Mr. Flynn harrumphed and said, "Just get me preliminary data by the fifteenth. I have an important meeting at the Pentagon."

Ben rolled his eyes at Randall's retreating back, doing his best to ease Rachel's anger.

"So honey, I've been thinking. We should do a medium-scale test. Maybe a large bunker or missile silo can be outfitted with the confinement equipment. Grace and I can work up some coarse-grain model for how the nanites should work in a million-cubic-foot box based on the two possible values for expansion, and you and Brad should write up a little proposal for his bossiness on the necessity of a medium-scale test."

"You know Randall is going to shit a brick when he finds out we need to do another test?" Rachel asked.

"Yeah," Ben replied with a wicked grin, "That's what he deserves for bringing up Danny like that."

Rachel grinned back at her husband, "Okay. Should I bring the new guys in on this?"  _Dr. Sanborn, Dr. Seong, Dr. Warren, Dr. Nayar, Dr. Meerdink, and Dr. Li were all DOD scientists – but it wasn't their fault, they were stuck in the pyramid scheme of science like the rest of them with the supply of PhD educated folks far out-striping the demand._

"Yeah, sure, that's what they're here for. Let's see if Grace and Dr. Nayar can move up the production of the containment transponders for the test. Dr. Warren might be able to help you with the proposal, if she's not to busy exploring the biological uses for the nanites."

Rachel leaned in to give Ben a chaste kiss on the check before she left to gather their troops. She knew this was his way of admitting that she was right. They both had strong wills, which frequently got them into trouble, but they made a great team, the big-ideas dreamer and the nit-picky problem-solver. These past five months had really strained their relationship, but he was still the nerdy sweetheart she married.


End file.
